


so how do we win?

by malskira



Category: The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Angst, Emotionally Constipated Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Fluff, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia Has Feelings, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia Loves Jaskier | Dandelion, Jaskier | Dandelion Whump, M/M, Ouch, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, but im not, im sorry, no beta we die like jaskier of old age in s2, oh boy is there some angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-08
Updated: 2020-07-08
Packaged: 2021-03-05 03:53:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,064
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25148017
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/malskira/pseuds/malskira
Summary: Geralt so rarely met a human who wasn't scared of him, let alone one that willingly stuck by him.He didn't believe too much in soulmates. Even if he did, witchers couldn't have one, a fact that was apparent now.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Comments: 11
Kudos: 109





	so how do we win?

"Geralt," Jaskier dragged out the last syllable for a dramatic effect, "Are we almost there yet?"

They were making their ways to a small village, the buildings within eyesight. The bard, apparently, wasn't paying enough attention to tell. 

Geralt was riding on Roach, Jaskier walking beside them. He made to keep a fast enough pace to still make good time, but not fast enough to where the bard would be left behind or worn out. 

"You sound like a child, bard." Geralt answered without looking back. 

Jaskier spluttered, "I am truly hurt by that. You are not very mature yourself, you know. What with your whole grunting and humming as responses."

Geralt turned to him, an eyebrow quirked. 

The bard never failed to impress Geralt by being so quick-witted. It was one of the things that drew him to Jaskier. That and the fact that Jaskier never once smelled of fear. 

Geralt so rarely met a human who wasn't scared of him, let alone one that willingly stuck by him. 

He didn't believe too much in soulmates. Even if he did, witchers couldn't have one, a fact that was apparent now. 

It was said that the last words your soulmate will ever say to you appear on your body once they die. Geralt has now lost more people, more loves, than he can count. Nothing appeared. The rumors were true, he supposed. 

He supposed it was one of the reasons he never allowed himself to open up to anyone. Anyone but Jaskier and Yennefer, that was. The latter, however, he had no control over. It was merely the doing of a djinn.

Which is why it gave Geralt all the more reason to be scared of Jaskier. The bard was human, and eventually, he would leave him, just as all the others have. 

He's loved humans before, and it never ended well. Loving the bard, to put it politely, was one of the hardest things Geralt ever had to go through. With Yennefer, it was easy. He knew his feelings were returned, but it was different with Jaskier.

Jaskier loved so freely. Even if he did feel the same, Geralt would be nothing more than a passing fancy, feelings disappearing within the next day.

Even despite that, he knew he hurt the other man on a daily basis with his harsh words and actions. A man as great and bright as Jaskier could never love a monster like Geralt. Because he was just that, a monster. 

The guilt of all of his bard actions resurfacing, Geralt made a mental note to give Jaskier a sweet tart later today. He's been storing it in his side pack all of today, waiting for the right moment to give it to the other man. 

Jaskier would like that, he thought. It was a strawberry tart, sweet just as the bard liked it. His favorite.

"What are you brooding about now, dear witcher?" Jaskier said, lightly slapping Geralt's leg. 

Geralt huffed, "I don't brood."

"Right, except you actually do, all of the time." Jaskier said, a light smile on his lips. 

_Except you actually do, all of the time_. The words brought him back to a time he wished he could go back to. 

He remembers Jaskier saying those words to him as he laid in the bath, the smell of chamomile and lavender still light in the air. 

Even back then, Jaskier was always considerate of the scents he'd put in Geralt's bath. He always made sure they were strong enough to smell, but not strong enough to overwhelm Geralt and his witcher senses. 

_Maybe someone out there will want you_ , Jaskier had said. He didn't believe Jaskier back then, and he still doesn't. No one could possibly want Geralt as he is. Not someone that's not influenced by magic, that is. 

No one, especially not Jaskier. 

He told Jaskier how the last thing he wanted was someone needing him. In reality, that was the furthest thing from the truth. He didn't just _want_ Jaskier to need him, he _needed_ the bard to need him. 

He liked being needed, even if it was just for a good ballad or protection, whether that be from royal cuckolds or monsters. 

"You're doing it again," Jaskier said, "So, what were you so deeply lost in thought about? What has you thinking so very hard?"

"You." Geralt's lips threatened to twitch up into a smile.

It was the truth, but seeing Jaskier's reaction made it worth it. He stopped walking, face flushed. Geralt heard the other man's heart speed up.

"Oh, I get it." Jaskier began to walk again, "Nice, very funny. I didn't know you knew how to make a joke. I was beginning to be concerned."

 _Joke_ , Geralt thought, _right_.

The rest of the walk from there on was silent. Well, as silent as traveling with Jaskier can be. The bard sung while strumming his lute, trying out new lyrics and chord progressions as he went. 

In all honesty, Geralt enjoyed hearing Jaskier sing. He'd never let him know that, however. The other man's ego would become too big to handle. 

After stabling Roach, they walked into a small inn. The town as a whole was small, so it made sense that all of the establishments were too. He didn't suppose they got too much business here. 

"Hello, darling." Jaskier said, leaning slightly over the counter, "Would you perhaps have any spare rooms for my companion and I?"

The woman smiled brightly at him, "Of course. We only have one left, if that's alright."

"Of course." Jaskier handed the woman coin, but the woman waved him off. 

"No need." She looked to Geralt, "We need your help, witcher. A bunch of our people have gone missing recently."

Geralt nodded, "Where?"

"Down by the waterbeds." She answered, "I'll tell you what. If you take care of whatever it is, I'll give you the room, a few meals, and some coin. Deal?"

"Deal." 

The woman told them which room they were to stay in. 

As soon as they walked through the door of their room, Geralt laid out his supplies, getting ready for the hunt. He wanted to get it over with as early as he could.

"So, what do you think it is?" Jaskier asked, already draped over the bed. 

"Drowners, most likely," Geralt was already preparing for the next question, "And no, you cannot come."

Jaskier stood up and walked to Geralt, "Come on, dear witcher."

"No, Jaskier." He said sternly, "It's too dangerous."

"Aw, are you worried about me?" Jaskier asked.

Even though the bard was clearly joking, he wasn't wrong. Geralt stayed quiet, not wanting to lie. 

Luckily, Jaskier dropped it, "Well, I'll stay here, but only this once."

Jaskier pointed a finger at Geralt. The witcher waited until his back was turned to smile due to the dramatic nature of the other man.

After he gathered his proper supplies, he went for the door. He paused right before leaving, turning back to Jaskier.

"I'll be safe." Geralt reassured.

Jaskier nodded, "You always are, dear witcher."

Geralt smiled when he turned around. 

Dear witcher, the endearment that never failed to make a warmth spread through Geralt's chest. Jaskier called him that as if it was nothing, but everything at the same time. Geralt never thought too much of it. Jaskier called everyone endearments. He was no different.

The riverbeds weren't too far from the inn, so he was able to walk there alone, not wanting to risk Roach. 

As soon as he approached the water, he sensed them all around him. Fuck, he thought. It was a nest of drowners. They all seemed to show up at once. The sudden appearance of them all left Geralt with little to no time to prepare.

Geralt tried his hardest to strike at the monsters, their speed often outmatching his own. One jumped from behind him, leaving a deep gash on his left shoulder blade. Geralt couldn't help but wince as pain rippled through his torso and down his arm. 

Most of the fight was something of a second nature. He tried his best to ignore the deep cut on his shoulder, more blood spilling from it as seconds go by. 

The more he killed, the more seemed to pop up. He went on for what seemed like hours, striking and killing the monsters.

The sheer volume of them must have overwhelmed Geralt and his senses. Apparently, too much so, as he didn't sense a certain bard approaching the riverbed. 

He didn't notice until it was too late. 

He whipped around the moment he heard a scream erupt from the other man. One of the final three drowners had clawed the bard right across the stomach, deep gashes that were now soaking his doublet in blood. 

Geralt saw red as his body took over. He struck the monsters, decapitating them as he went.

"Geralt." Jaskier breathed out.

The bard was laying on the ground, more blood spilling as the moments went. Geralt rushed to his side, slowly picking up Jaskier to hold him in his arms. 

"Just stay with me." He applied pressure to Jaskier's stomach, "I just need to get you back to the inn."

"It's too late, it's too late" Jaskier repeated, trying his best to wave a hand at him, "Just, just hold me, Geralt. It's all I've ever wanted. Although, I didn't quite picture it like this."

Geralt laughed lightly, fully letting his guard down, "We can make it, Jask."

"No, we can't, but that's okay." Jaskier looked at Geralt, "I need to tell you something."

Geralt opened his mouth to protest, to say that everything will be fine, but Jaskier cut him off.

"I know I'm dying," Geralt flinched at the other man's words, "So now is a good time to tell you, I suppose. Out with it quickly, Jaskier, come on."

Jaskier took a deep breath before continuing, "I'm in love with you, have been since I saw you in the tavern." He coughed up blood as his words went on, a fact Geralt was trying to desperately ignore, "At first I thought it was a passing fancy, but no. I know you don't feel the same, but I needed to tell you."

How could I not feel the same? Geralt thought. 

"Jask, I-"

"No, Geralt. Let a dying bard have some last words, okay?" He tried joking, but it fell short, "I just want to say one last thing, and then you can say whatever you'd like."

Even in his death, Jaskier couldn't stop talking. Geralt hoped, he wished, that they maybe will have enough time because of this. Maybe, just maybe, Geralt can save Jaskier one more time. 

Jaskier's breathing proved the opposite. His breaths were coming in harsh, his words slowly became muddled as he struggled to get them out. 

"I, I need you to know this isn't your fault," Jaskier took a deep breath, almost as if it were to be his last, "And I love you." 

Geralt, even though he didn't want to, could hear the exact moment the bard's heart stopped beating. For the first time since he was a kid, he let himself cry. The racking sobs causing his chest to hurt, but it hurt for more than one reason.

The bard died in the witcher's arms, the witcher never getting to confess his love to the other man. It was quite poetic, he supposed. 

Jaskier would've loved it, would've created the best ballad known to man. He always was a sucker for a tragic love story, but something told Geralt that Jaskier never would've expected to become part of one. 

He felt a burning on his arm. He lifted it to see words slowly appearing in solid black.

 _I need you to know this isn't your fault, and I love you_ was all it said.

Those words forever engraved upon his skin, reminding him of what will become his biggest failure, reminding him of the words he never got to say. The one night he will always wish to forget, he never will. Everyday he will look at the bottom of his forearm and remember.

He realized he never did give Jaskier the sweet strawberry tart. The tart that was still sitting back at the room, alone.

Just as Geralt will be from here on out. 

**Author's Note:**

> okay maybe this one hurt just a little bit to write. i love this soulmate mark idea though, so i decided to roll with it!  
> thank you all for reading though! 
> 
> p.s. sorry (not) for the pain i might've caused.


End file.
